We seemed to have got lucky with our timing; after yesterday's downpours, this morning was dull but dry, and the barometer had risen by 2mB. That was the encouragement we needed, for the next few days would take us into ever bigger mountains with more difficult terrain. Firstly though, we had to catch the black and yellow ski bus, which would drop us at Astun, east of Col du Somport. We could have played ethical by exiting the bus at the col, but that would have meant walking the tarmac.

  The ski pass ticket office made a useful base for our breakfast, and then we set out at 9:30am, our loads heavy with maximum food supply on board. All uphill to Col des Moines (2168m) above the lakelet Ibon del Escalar. From there, we paused to view the craggy Pic du Midi d'Ossau (2884m), remnant from a long extinct volcano and unique in the chain of the Pyrenees. Its head was presently lost in the clouds, Voici! but the adjacent col by which we must pass was clear. A quick map check confirmed that we must lose all our height in getting there.

  The limestone terrain here differed from the karstic country west of Lescun as there was no tree cover; furthermore the streams at least made brief appearance before being gobbled by the gaping gouffres which abounded. The trails were also well defined, as was the Parc National boundary with its distinctive marque painted onto the rocks at 100m intervals. That makes for a lot of painting, and here as we re-entered the Parc from Spain, we found some sign-writers who implemented it. The letters P and N straddle the motif of an isard's head, all painted in red onto a white square. Karen and I discussed how it would be to undertake this work, instead of an office based job. 'Two pots of paint, brushes, a stencil, and a rucsac on your back'. I said
  'Not so pleasant in rough weather, but perhaps you then have an enforced lay-off?'.
  'Perhaps its piece work though ...?' The big paint tins certainly looked rather cumbersome, but few other jobs would present clean air and rugged mountain scenery.

  Resuming course, we left these chaps to do their stuff and plunged down into the valley, where we met many walkers, some in large parties. This traffic was to prove typical of the Parc and we were glad of the sociability it afforded at times. A sign in the valley advertising fromage de brebis set Karen off on a search, but she returned empty-handed. At the cabane to which the sign directed, she found only a dead sheep in the doorway, and nobody at home. 'Must be out of season' we concluded familiarly.

  The valley stepped down ahead before our route commenced re-ascent, but a trace of passage on the flank prompted adventure; to follow this would save us 100m re-ascent if successful. The trace led up past another dwelling tucked away in the folds of the hill; the Cabane de Peyreget. It was built at the side of a tiny pla where a stream ran before dissappearing into a gouffre. We followed the stream to sample it well above the grazing ponies and continued refreshed, to reach the tiny Lac de Peyreget with some excellent turf which might have tempted a pitch (were it not in the PNP).

  Approaching the col, we entered a rift zone between limestone and the volcanic rock, which was clearly evident at a groove where a straddling walk could place left and right feet on the two distinct rock types. Col de Peyreget (2300m) was soon gained and we commenced a steep descent overlooking Ref Pombie. Voici! Karen had an incident here which had lasting repercussions through-out the trek. She had been making good progress with speed and agility over rough and steep ground, aided by her trekking poles we supposed. Thus emboldened by her progress (and my encouragement, you may imagine) she slipped and in pulling herself upright with heavy sac, strained her knees. This left her limping and confidence battered, to declare that she would have to take things steadier from there-on. Karen_comments

  We arrived at the refuge which like many others sits next to a scenic lake, well early at 2:30pm. There to assail the warden with questions about food, meals and regulations. Of course, we appreciated that nutrition at this altitude would be a bit more basic, we just wished to know how basic and at what cost. Which led us to vex him in asking about breakfast food. 'If you want fresh croissants then you'll have to walk down to the shops to get them, but mind you hurry back or they'll be stale ...!' he said. We made light of this and decided to humour him by ordering a trial lunch snack of soup, omelette and bread. The white baguette was chewy, the thin tomato soup distinctly from a packet, and the herby omelette, OK! We were getting the idea. Karen_comments

  Our pitch in the recommended hollow allowed observation of climbers on the beetling cliffs; the warden (who was a keen climber) had informed me that the Ossau massif presents about 120 routes. Some of the multi-pitch routes there would be 600m in length making them comparable with alpine standards, and they are generally of good quality, except where a splash of grey indicates rockfall activity. That pale grey is the natural colour of the volcanic rhyolite and andesite, which weathers to make the Pic dark brown. From our situation to the east, it was now silhouetted an inky black by the setting sun and on its heights the alpine choughs were squabbling for the roost. We decided to retire too, Karen would benefit from an early night to help her knees recover.